Mjollnir Is Kidnapped!
by Yashahime
Summary: Thor hates flashbacks. Loki loves them.


Mjollnir is Kidnapped!  
By Yasha-hime

Author's Notes:

Yes, Thor is slightly homophobic in this. In the sense that considering it as an option for himself squicks him.  
Yes, Loki is a fruit. And has mad skillz.  
Sessrumnir is Freya's hall, where half the warriors slain in battle go; one might consider it the female version of Valhalla. Also, Loki is apparently unable, according to myth, to take on any flying form larger than an insect. Not exactly conducive to a rapid search.  
Enjoy!  


- Y.   
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            "Damn it!" Thor cursed, shoving his arm between the cushions of Loki's couch searchingly.  "Where'd they **go**?  Shit, I hate it when I lose my keys!  How am I supposed to get back into my apartment?"  
            Loki had been watching this process for a good fifteen minutes.  He sat with his cheek resting on his palm, elbow propped up on his desk.  "You're good at losing things, aren't you?" he commented.  
            "Eh?  What do you mean, Loki?" Thor demanded suspiciously.  
            "You've even managed to lose Mjollnir, remember?" Loki smirked.  
            Thor instantly recalled that incident.  "I didn't lose Mjollnir!" he insisted vehemently, shaking his finger at Loki indignantly.  "It was kidnapped!"  
            The room began to fill with a soft, white mist that obscured the edges of vision.  Thor blinked at it.  "...what's this stuff?"  
            "Oh, we're about to have a flashback," Loki explained airily.  
            "I hate flashbacks," Thor pronounced darkly.

            "Ow!" Loki yelped, flailing against the stinging blow that had struck his shoulder while he slept.  "Thor!  What was that for?  I didn't do anything!"  Loki glared at Thor, who stood over him, shaking with fury.  
            "Mjollnir is gone!" Thor growled.  "Where did you put it?"  
            "Mjollnir's what?" Loki demanded incredulously.  "And what makes you think **I** had anything to do with it?"  
            "It's the kind of thing you'd do," Thor responded logically, but he seemed a little less full of righteous wrath.  
            Loki tossed the covers aside and dangled his feet over the edge of the bed.  He was, of course, utterly naked; Loki had once declared that sleeping any other way was a waste of time and possibly a sin besides.  Thor politely averted his eyes.  "Thor.  Think about it for just a minute.  You are the one thing that stands between me and several hordes of furious relations that want me dead for being in bed with Odin."  Loki paused.  "...figuratively speaking."  
            "I'm not always sure, with you," Thor muttered.    
            "Did you leave it laying around in the Hall?" Loki asked.  
            "No, I checked there," Thor replied, brow furrowed.  
            "Did you try calling it back?"  
            "Well, of course!" Thor snapped.  "I'm not **that** stupid!"  
            "I wasn't implying that," Loki placated, though he had, in fact, been thinking so.  
            "Where could my Mjollnir be!?"  Thor fretted anxiously as Loki got up and pulled on a pair of pants and flicked a comb through his hair a couple of times.  
            "I think we should go find out," Loki said.  "Come on.  This is serious business."  He edged sideways past Thor (his room was very small and cramped and not meant for two people even briefly--which, Odin had said when assigning it to Loki, didn't matter since Loki never spent much time in his **own** bed) and out the door.  Thor followed rapidly.  
            "Where are we going?" he wanted to know.  
            "Sessrumnir," Loki responded.  "I need to talk to Freya.  Whose boots are those, do you know?"  Loki pointed to a pair of well-made boots that had been carelessly discarded a few feet from the door.  Thor reflected that it had been a mistake for the poor slob who'd done that; Loki tended to appropriate things if he'd forgotten his own.  
            "Freya's house?" he said.  "Won't you need a coat, too?  It's cold out.  You think Freya knows something about Mjollnir?"  
            Loki, balancing with one hand against the wall as he stuffed his feet into the boots (which were a near-perfect fit, suggesting, Loki grimaced mentally, that Heimdall was visiting his father), glanced flirtatiously at Thor.  "But I've got you to keep me warm," he said with wide-eyed innocence.  
            Thor gagged and turned pale green.  Loki just laughed and picked up a cloak--yes, definitely Heimdall's.  Well, he wouldn't mind lending these things for a good cause.  Much.  Besides, how fast would he be able to chase Loki without his boots?  "C'mon," he said to Thor, without explaining his plan.

            Freya sat in the large, luxurious bower where she usually entertained women.  She had no visitors today, however, for which Loki was grateful as he walked into the room unannounced.  "Freya," he greeted with a charming smile and a kiss on Freya's hand.  Freya blushed and averted her eyes flirtatiously.  "We need your help."  
            "Mm?" Freya blinked, looking up again.  She leaned to the side and finally noticed Thor.  "Thor?  What?  What's going on, Loki?"  
            "Mjollnir's been kidnapped!" Thor burst out, anguished.  
            "I thought you might be willing to lend us your ability to become falcons," Loki inserted before Freya could reply.  Freya, who had been about to laugh at Thor's playacting, shifted her eyes back to Loki and realized this was serious.  
            "Of course!" she said at once.  She rose and held her hands out before her, forming the runes in her mind and whispering the Word to release the spell.  She then let herself fall limply back on the couch in a highly suggestive pose.  "Anything to find Mjollnir!"  
            Freya glanced out of the corner of her eye to see if Loki had noticed her pose, and if so, if he liked it.  She heaved a huge, disappointed sigh to see that he and Thor were already gone.

            "Thor, you fly like an airborne cow," Loki snickered.  
            "I got six sharp talons and a willingness to use them if you keep that up, Loki," Thor warned, struggling through the air past Bifrost.  
            Loki did a lazy loop-de-loop around Thor.  "You'd have to catch me, first," he taunted.  
            Thor watched Loki do another loop-de-loop and a barrel roll.  "Stop that!  You're making me airsick."  
            Loki heard the plaintive note in Thor's voice and left off the aerial acrobatics.  He didn't get to fly very often in any kind of form that was worth taking on, and he enjoyed it when he had the chance--but not, he reflected, at the expense of having Thor land and refuse to fly anymore.  
            "Where are we going, anyway?" Thor demanded.  
            "Think about it," Loki responded seriously.  "Who would benefit the most if Mjollnir disappeared for good?"  
            "The giants," Thor responded promptly.  "Of course."  
            "Exactly," Loki said.  "And I happen to know that Thrym goes out of his way to know about every little thing that goes on in Jotunheim."  
            "Thrym?" Thor queried.  
            "This month's Lord of the Giants," Loki replied.  "Or is it this year's?  I don't think you've had any fun with giants in a while."  
            "One year, two months, and thirteen days," Thor replied promptly.  "I was considering coming down here looking for a few when the weather breaks."  
            "That's a long time," Loki observed.  "I'm surprised you didn't pack up and head out last spring."  
            "Father Odin wanted me to stay home," Thor said with a shrug.  This unfortunate act caused him to tumble a good hundred feet, and it took him fifteen minutes to regain it, with the way he flew.  
            "That explains it," Loki noted.  "Anyway.  I figure if anyone in Jotunheim took Mjollnir, Thrym knows about it."  
            "So we're going to go bust this Thrym guy's head open?" Thor asked eagerly.  
            "No, we're going to go ask where Mjollnir is.  And Thor?"  
            "What?"  
            "Let **me** do the talking, okay?"  
            "...fine, fine," Thor said sulkily.

            "Ho!" Thrym roared as the two falcons alighted on a branch near his face, just outside his hall.  "What's this?  Loki, is that you?"  He didn't acknowledge Thor's presence at all.  
            "Long time no see, Thrym," Loki responded, flipping his wings neatly closed.  He did not add, however much he thought it, that he'd hoped it would be even longer.  "How's it going?"  He clicked his hooked beak sharply at Thor when Thor rustled irritably.  
            "Life is good," Thrym boasted.  "And it's gonna get even better soon."  
            "Oh?  How's that?" Loki asked with apparently idle interest.  
            "Because you're gonna go back to Asgard and tell everybody I'm gonna marry Freya, or else you'll never see that ugly hammer again."  
            Thor screeched in outrage, and Loki hastily tumbled him off the branch into a snow drift.  "I see," he said to Thrym.  "How'd you get hold of Mjollnir, anyway?"  
            "Oh, last night it came thundering out of the sky six or eight times before I grabbed it," Thrym said boisterously.  "Broke my toe and three fingers holding it down.  I hid it deep underground, with no help, so nobody'll ever see it again if I don't get that gorgeous little wench Freya for my wife."  
            Loki looked down at Thor's tail feathers sourly.  It figured that Thor would play a stupid game like that.  "How far underground are we talking?" he wondered as he watched Thor struggle out of the snow and shake himself dry.  
            "Eight leagues," Thrym responded promptly.  "Deeper than any of you puny ones can dig before Ragnarok!"  
            "So.  Since you want Freya, I guess you won't try and stop us from leaving?"  Loki always checked.  The bigger the giant, the stupider he was.  That, Loki thought with satisfaction, was why he was the smartest man alive.  
            "Nope," Thrym agreed.  "Hurry back, now.  I want my bride."  
            "See ya," Loki responded, leaping off the branch and snapping his wings open.  Thor glared darkly at Thrym, but maintained his silence and struggled into the air to follow Loki home.

            Heimdall was waiting for them at the doors to Valhalla.  "Loki, you bastard, you stole my boots and my brand-new cloak!" he snarled.  He looked more than ready to shove his fist in Loki's face despite the fact that Loki was still a falcon.  
            "Can it, Heimdall, we've got more important things to worry about right now," Loki snapped.  "Where's Freya?"  
            Heimdall blinked at the force of Loki's words.  "...visiting Odin, third floor, in Frigg's sitting room," he said as meekly as Heimdall ever said anything.  
            Loki didn't even bother tossing off any taunts, just flew up to the third floor and landed in front of Freya, Frigg, and Odin.  Thor wasn't far behind him, and soon as they were both on the ground, Freya held out her hands and took back her gift.  
            "Father," Thor burst out, unable to contain his righteous wrath any further, "some giant bastard has my Mjollnir, and he hid it, and he won't give it back unless he marries Freya."  
            "Congratulations," Loki murmured sardonically to Freya.  "Your marriage has been arranged."  
            Freya twitched.  How could Loki say something like that to her!?  Didn't he know, couldn't he tell--!?  "No!" she snapped, leaping to her feet.  "I'm not marrying some--some--stupid OAF of a giant!"  She glared at Loki and then at Thor.  
            "I want my hammer back, damn it!" Thor bellowed, turning red in the face.  He caught a glimpse of Loki wincing and shaking his head behind Freya and turned to his father.  "Father--!"  
            Odin's brow furrowed, but he was silent.  He did, however, give Freya a thoughtful look.  Freya took in the look and swelled up indignantly.  The muscles in her neck tightened so much that her prized necklace broke and tumbled to the floor.  
            Fortunately for the sake of the beautiful necklace, Loki dove to catch it.  Freya noticed this, and also noticed that Loki didn't even **try** to look up her skirt.  
            This only fueled her anger further.  "**Absolutely not!**" she shrieked at the top of her lungs.  Freya had very good lungs.  Odin, Thor, and Loki all cringed; the rafters shook, and several other gods, Valkyries, and warriors came running to crowd around the door and see what was going on.  "I **absolutely refuse**!  I'm not a piece of chattel, to be tossed like a bone to a dog of a giant!"  Freya ran out of breath.  She took another, causing her breasts to strain at her bodice.  Most of the gods, Valkyries, and warriors prudently left again--all save for Odin, Loki, and Thor, who were trapped in the room; Frigg, who was fazed by very little; and Heimdall, who feared nothing and besides had prudently stuffed his leather-gauntleted fingers in his ears.  "Don't even for one **minute** think of sending me to Jotunheim!" Freya screamed.  "If you try it, I'll burn down Sessrumnir and set fire to Valhalla, too!"  
            This was a dire threat, and Freya clearly meant it.  Frigg silently rose and embraced Freya lightly, murmuring soothing sounds into her ear.  "Of course we won't send you to Jotunheim," she assured the Vanir.  She didn't even glance at her husband when she said it.  "That's no place for someone as lovely as you, and Asgard would be a dark and lonely place without you here."  
            "But I want Mjollnir baaaack!" Thor whined.  
            "So why don't you dress up as Freya and go get it, then?" Heimdall suggested with a disdainful sniff.

            "I remember that."  The white mist snaked its way out of Loki's study again swiftly.  Thor started in surprise and turned to face Loki's desk.  Heimdall leaned against the edge of it, arms folded across his chest, while Loki sat in his chair, disheveled and tied up.  
            "Heimdall!" Thor gasped.  "When did you get here?"  
            "During the flashback," Heimdall shrugged.  
            "Heimdall, have you discussed this bondage fetish you have with a psychiatrist?" Loki asked pertly.  Heimdall's expression darkened, and he turned and bonked Loki on the head with his gloved fist.  
            "Shut up!  I hate you and I want you dead!"  
            "And you tie me up every chance you get," Loki replied, wincing at the blow.  
            "Man, even the flashback was better than this," Thor muttered.  The white mist gratefully crept back in.  Thor's eyes widened, and he waved his hands in denial.  "Wait!  Wait!  I didn't mean it!"

             Thor turned red in the face again, and his fingers twitched convulsively.  "I will kill you, Heimdall.  Right now.  I don't need Mjollnir for it, either!"  He reached slowly for Heimdall's neck.  Heimdall fell into a fighting stance.  
            "Not inside, children," Frigg said placidly.  Odin gave his sons a commanding glance, and they reluctantly straightened from the fighting poses, though they continued to glare darkly at each other.  
            "It kinda sounds like fun, actually.  I'm surprised you thought of it, Dally," Loki commented, his nimble fingers quickly repairing the broken link on Freya's Brisingamen.  Heimdall twitched at the irreverent and disrespectful nickname, but didn't attack Loki because his father was still looking at him.  "Hey, Thor, how 'bout I go with you?  I know just the thing to set off your pretty eyes."  
            "You can borrow my necklace, even!" Freya offered immediately.  "Just bring it back in good condition, or I'll hurt you."  She remained in Frigg's comforting embrace, though she did raise her head from Frigg's shoulder.  
            Thor choked, went dead white, then pale green, and finally bright red again.  "I'm not going to marry that bastard, either!"  
            Loki looked at the Brisingamen consideringly, then looped it around Freya's neck and fastened the clasp again.  Freya blushed when Loki's fingers brushed against the back of her neck, but Loki failed to notice.  "No dress, no hammer," he said carelessly to Thor.  
            "I hate you," Thor spat.  "I really, really, really **hate** you."  
            "Aw, you say the nicest things, sweetie," Loki said, batting his eyelashes outrageously and patting Thor's cheek.  Thor turned green again.

            "I swear, if I don't get to kill something before the week is out--!" Thor growled.  
            "Hold still while I fix this hem," Loki commanded around the pins in his mouth.  Thor stood on a small stool, dressed in an elaborate gown of heavy blue velvet embroidered all over in gold and silver thread.  "You can kill Thrym--after we get Mjollnir back."  
            "You promise?" Thor said eagerly.  
            "Oh, hell, yes," Loki said enthusiastically.  "The guy's a total jackass."  Loki placed the last pin.  "Okay, you can take the dress off now.  **Carefully.**"  
            "You know what, Loki, sometimes I worry about you," Thor said, hastily (but carefully) disrobing.  "You act like a woman sometimes."  
            "What, just because I can sew?" Loki jeered.  "With the way my wardrobe gets ripped up, it's a necessity!  I don't have a wife to sew my stuff for me, I can't always depend on you letting me near Sif, and Frigg scares me."  
            "...true."  
            "Besides, I like pretty things."  
            "You know what?  I've noticed that."  
            "Nice try," Loki congratulated.  "Try putting in a little more emphasis on 'noticed' next time for greater effect."  He grinned when Thor rolled his eyes.  "We're lucky Freya's letting us dig through her wardrobe.  It'll be more authentic that way."  
            "Loki!" Freya caroled as she burst through the door of the sewing room.  "I found just the thing for you to wear!"  Thor blushed and snatched up his pants; Loki ignored him and sat on a padded bench to stitch up the hem.  
            "What did you find?" the trickster asked Freya.  Freya held out a rich gown of Loki's signature maroon that wasn't nearly as elaborate as the gown Thor would be wearing, but it had some lovely beadwork around the bodice and the sleeve cuffs.  Loki pursed his lips and looked the gown over thoroughly as Freya waited breathlessly.  "I like it," he judged finally.  "Simple, elegant, yet nothing that a handmaiden of yours wouldn't be allowed to wear."  
            "I borrowed it from one of my girls," Freya admitted.  "I promised her a pick from my wardrobe in exchange."  
            "As soon as I finish up Thor's hem, I'll try it on," Loki promised.  "...and then I'll need to lengthen my hair--what do you think, should I change my eye color, too?  Thor's going to be veiled but I'll be trying to keep eyes on me, anyway, and I don't think I want to chance being recognized."  
            "Mmm...maybe brown?" Freya said dubiously.  Loki's eyes were so incredibly beautiful, she didn't want him to change them...but she didn't want him dead because he got caught out in the masquerade, either.  
            "That works," Loki agreed.  "And I'll change my hair color to something darker, too, I think, at the same time I lengthen it."  All during this conversation he kept his eyes down, neatly but swiftly sewing up Thor's hem.  Freya sighed silently in disappointment.  "There, got it!" Loki said triumphantly, tossing the dress to Thor.

            Thor found it distinctly odd to look at Loki and see a 'girl' with long auburn hair and brown eyes, but still Loki's face.  It had been odder yet to see Loki with long auburn hair and brown eyes sitting around in just his pants while he sewed false breasts into the undergarments to go under the gowns.  
            "You know," he commented, bunching his skirts up around his knees to step over a log as they walked toward Thrym's hall, "I'm surprised Freya didn't slap you for groping her like that."  
            "I had to see what size her breasts were for the disguise," Loki said all too innocently.  
            "You want her, don't you."  
            "Eh," Loki shrugged.  "She's nice enough, but look at the competition!  And the fruitcake brother.  Freyr's about the only one who couldn't hand me my ass on a platter if they got ticked enough over it."  
            "That's never stopped you before," Thor noted.  
            "Hey, I'm horny, not suicidal."  
            Thor stopped and glared at Thrym's hall, down in the dale below them.  "I hate this," he announced to the world in general.  "I really hate this."  
            Loki patted his shoulder.  "It shouldn't take long.  All you have to do is remember to swish your hips the way Freya does and let me do the talking.  It shouldn't be more than half an hour before you've got Mjollnir back in your hands, and then you can slaughter the wedding party."  
            "Okay!" Thor brightened.  Loki snickered into his hand and started down into the dale.  Thor turned a pale green, watching Loki swish his hips like a two-penny whore, but pulled the veil down over his face and followed Loki down the slope.  
            Thrym awaited his incoming bride eagerly.  He had the feast already laid out, and special chairs for Freya and her handmaiden had been placed at his right at the high table.  "Ho, my bride!" he roared when Loki and Thor made a dramatically-timed entrance.  (Loki's response to Thor's insult that Loki was acting like Freyr had been that Freya was Freyr's sister, and had Thor ever known her to make anything but a dramatic entrance?  Defeated, Thor had allowed Loki to have his dramatic entrance.)  
            Thor started forward, and Loki pinched him sharply.  Thor abruptly remembered to swish.  Thor did not swish very well, but he tried.  Loki would never let him live it down.

            "Never," Loki agreed as the mist crept away.  "Give us a demonstration, again, Narukami-kun!"  He smiled sweetly as Thor turned around to glare at him.  He was still tied up in his chair, with Heimdall's hawk perched on the desk in front of him.  
            "If you didn't already have Heimdall about to torture you to death, I'd do it myself for that," Thor snapped.  "...where is Heimdall, anyway?"  
            Loki shrugged.  "He had to go to the bathroom."  
            "Oh.  Damn it, why does that stupid mist keep coming back!?"  
            "The story's not finished yet.  
            "Damn it!"

            Thor seated himself and immediately tore into the food.  Thor had never been one to let his hatred of his host stop him from scarfing down any food laid before him.  He ate an entire roasted ox by himself (except for the few slices Loki managed to steal before they were consumed), eight salmon, and just about everything else on the table, washing it all down with huge gulps of mead; his drinking horn was refilled three times.  
            Thrym watched with horrified fascination.  "She eats like a pig!" he squawked in dismay.  
            Loki, having expected this, as Thor really did love his food, said in a soft, extremely feminine voice, "When my mistress heard what a fine, strong, handsome husband she was to have--"  (Thor was hard put not to snort.) "--she became so enthused she hasn't eaten for eight whole days, preparing for our journey here to Jotunheim."  
            "Really?" Thrym perked.  "All right!"  He leaned over Thor.  "Give us a kiss, sweetheart!"  
            Thor was having no parts of that.  He straightened his shoulders and sent his best intimidating glower at Thrym--the one he'd caught Heimdall copying in the mirror a few months ago.  (Thor had been unwise enough to breathe amusement in Heimdall's general direction; the fight had caused the replacement of fourteen pieces of furniture from three different rooms.)  Thrym jerked back reflexively.  
            "W-W-What...what was that!?" the giant squeaked.  "Freya's eyes are all red...and...glowy..."  
            Loki hurried into speech, hoping to confuse Thrym before Thrym figured out that Thor was not Freya.  "My mistress has been sewing her trousseau for eight days without ceasing even for sleep," he said hastily.  He gestured, and Thrym obediently bent his head for Loki to whisper into.  
            The drinking horn obscured Thor's face as he resolutely ignored Loki's whispering.  He did not want to know.  If he knew, with the mood Loki had been in lately, he'd either be sick or strangle Loki.  Possibly both; the idea of strangling Loki always held a certain appeal.  Especially under circumstances like this.  
            Thor did understand how much it had cost Loki to accompany him this way.  Thor could get away with cross-dressing because it hadn't been his idea, and everybody in Asgard **knew** he didn't swing that way.  Most people had their doubts about Loki, and Loki was always being taunted, anyway.  More than that, Loki was **highly** protective of his own skin, and this was definitely a risk, if they were found out.  
            None of this meant that Thor didn't want to strangle Loki.  Loki's sense of humor cropped up entirely too often and in entirely the worst moments, in Thor's opinion.  
            Loki finished whispering in Thrym's ear and noticed with satisfaction that the giant Lord had turned a nice shade of tomato red.  That should distract him from noticing that Thor acted nothing like Freya.  He ruefully reflected that the only reason they were getting away with this as it was, was because giants had a hard time distinguishing between heights of less than three feet.  
            "Bring out the priest!" Thrym roared eagerly.  "Damn, but I wanna see this nightgown thing!"  
            Thor sprayed mead out the sides of the drinking horn.  Strangling Loki...yes.  Right after getting Mjollnir back.  
            Loki edged away from Thor and silently prayed to the Norns (if they were listening and in a good mood) that they'd get Mjollnir back soon.  Immediately would be nice.  
            It seemed the Norns were, in fact, listening.  They were apparently in a snarky mood, however, because the priest came in, dragging Mjollnir behind him, and Loki had to dig his fingers into Thor's thigh to make him wait through the priest's long-winded and boring preamble.  
            Finally, after what felt like eternity, the priest shoved Mjollnir into Thor's lap to bless the coming union.  Thor let out a roar of pent-up fury and frustration.  He leapt to his feet, tearing the veil off, and pounded Mjollnir into Thrym's forehead in three mighty strokes.  
            "Wow, Freya, honey, you really put on those muscles," Loki called gaily over the noise of many giants attempting to flee the hall.  The only reason he got away with it was because Thor was eager to get between the giants and the door.  
            Loki watched for a few minutes as Thor really got down to work.  The embroidered gown, he noted, was unlikely to survive the melee in scraps larger than his thumbnail.  A shame; that was a really pretty dress.  The mischievous young god absently changed his hair and eyes back to normal and looked for a good place to watch the fun without getting in the middle of it.  
            Ah.  Perfect place.  Loki picked up a haunch of some kind of meat, a horn of mead, and a wedge of cheese, and then climbed up on the arm of Thrym's throne.  He leaned against the back and crossed his ankles, eating rapidly but much more neatly than Thor as he watched the fun.  
            Thor chased down every last one of the giants and looked around for more.  He saw motion across the room and bounded over.  "Graaaaah!" he bellowed.  
            Loki shrieked like a girl and rolled off the chair.  "Wait wait wait!" he wailed.  "Thor, it's me!  It's Loki, damn it!"  A refrain of, 'I don't wanna die I don't wanna die I don't wanna die' ran frantically through his mind.  
            Thor blinked.  "...Loki?"  He straightened, lowering Mjollnir to a less threatening position.  "Oh.  Sorry."  He glanced around at the carnage.  "I was having fun."  
            "I noticed," Loki said dryly, pulling himself to his feet.  "...damn it, you got gore on my dress!  That's going to stain, you know."  
            Thor raised Mjollnir again.  "I shouldn't have pulled it," he said darkly.  
            Loki grinned and grabbed Thor's ears.  He bussed Thor soundly on the lips, then turned and ran as fast as his legs would carry him, Thor brandishing Mjollnir only a few feet behind him.

            "Good!  It's over!" Thor pronounced.  "Hey, Heimdall, you want some hel..."  Thor turned around and fell over in shock.  
            Heimdall was tied up in Loki's chair, gnashing his teeth and struggling wildly to get free.  His hawk fluttered angrily in a canary cage on the desk.  Thor decided he was glad he couldn't make out more than one word in ten of what Heimdall was saying.  
            "What the hell happened?" he demanded.  
            The study door opened, and Loki walked in just in time to answer Thor's question.  "It was my turn to go to the bathroom," he explained, "so Heimdall is ever so nicely taking my place."  
            Thor looked at Loki.  He considered the flashback Loki had induced.  Then he reached over and untied Heimdall.  
            Loki proved that he could run just as fast as a child as he'd been able to as a god.

**Owari**


End file.
